


Recovery

by chelseagirl



Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 07:19:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15814116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelseagirl/pseuds/chelseagirl
Summary: Recovering from an injury, Hannibal Heyes has to reconsider his view of human nature.  Set during outlaw days.





	Recovery

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nelly_Pledge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nelly_Pledge/gifts).



> A bit of hurt/comfort fluff that I'd written as a present for a friend who was recovering from surgery.

Hannibal Heyes woke to find himself in a dark room. “Kid?” he whispered. “Kid?”

For a moment, there was silence, and then he heard the response. “Heyes.”

“Where are we, Kid?”

There was a stirring, and then Kid Curry was by his bedside. “Glad you’re awake. You’ve been out for so long we were gettin’ a little bit worried.”

“What happened?”

“You got shot, Heyes.”

A touch of the old impatience, which made it clear to the Kid that his partner was feeling a bit more himself. “I remember that, Kid. And it seems like I remember . . . maybe I fell off my horse? But after that, everything’s a little fuzzy.”

“You remember,” his voice grew quiet, as though he didn’t wish to be overheard, “that we hit the Carteret City bank, yeah?”

A slow smile spread across Heyes’ face. “Yeah. We tried something new with the safe. And it worked. But then on our way out of town . . .”

Curry shook his head. “Heyes, sometimes I kinda wonder about the whole gang thing. Even though we only brought Lobo and Kyle along, they called the wrong kind of attention to us.”

“I remember the posse,” Heyes agreed. “Nearly caught up with us a couple of miles outside of town, but we gave ‘em the slip.”

“Right. But then they caught up with us again, outside of Cypress Creek. And that’s when you got shot.”

“So what happened?”

“Lobo and Kyle volunteered to draw ‘em away, while I got you help. We’re in the back room of the local doc’s house. That bullet shattered your bone pretty bad. Afraid you ain’t gonna be walking for a few more weeks.”

Even in the dim light, Heyes could see the concern on his partner’s face.

“How bad is it, Kid?”

“You’ll walk again. But you may end up with a limp.”

Heyes shook his head. “Great. Word gets out that Hannibal Heyes has a limp, I’m gonna be a whole lot easier to identify. Might as well just send my photograph to all the major newspapers and have done with it.”

“Or you might not. The doc says he’s got some exercises that’ll help, but you gotta take ‘em seriously.”

“Whatever it takes, Kid. Whatever it takes. But why hasn’t the doctor turned us in for the reward? With that big posse chasing around, he must’ve figured it out. And I’m sure $20,000 – or the ten for me, anyway – could buy a lot of medical equipment, an office in a bigger town, a lotta things.”

“Well, of course I ain’t been exactly honest with him about who we are. But anyway, he don’t seem that type. You’ll see.”

Over the next few weeks, Heyes gradually grew stronger. The doctor, elderly but bright-eyed and eager to talk about the treatments once he saw how interested his patient was, seemed to be genuinely more interested in said patient’s progress than in getting paid or than getting the inadvertent tenants in his back room to move on.

“Well, Mister Stone,” he said – Heyes had been identified to him as Jim Stone, and the Kid was Paul Butler, this time around -- “you’re making good progress. But there are a few more exercises I’d like to add to your routine.”

Heyes worked hard at his recovery, while the Kid kept himself occupied by helping the doctor and his wife around their property, mending things and digging up the garden. The doctor’s wife was a motherly woman, who made nourishing and delicious things to help the patient’s recovery, but never pushed him to eat more than he wanted. There was also a nurse, a sweet-faced woman with a soft voice and an accent Heyes was unfamiliar with. She and the Kid took turns reading to Heyes, while he rested his eyes and tried to relax.

“And that is the end of the tale of two cities,” she said, one afternoon. “And now I’ve got to return to my other duties.”

“Thanks,” said Heyes. “Tell me, miss, where are you from?”

“Wales,” she said.

“That’s part of England, right? My family’s from there.”

“It’s part of Britain,” she corrected. “Not England, at all.”

“Sorry, miss . . . ma’am? So how did you come to be in this part of the world?”

“My late husband thought we’d make our fortune. He was . . . somewhat misinformed. And got caught in a cave-in at the mine where he ended up working. But Doctor Lawrence was so kind, to take me in and train me in nursing.” And having told her tale, she left the room, in pursuit of those further duties.

Finally, the day came when Heyes was strong enough to ride again, and far enough along with the healing, that it was safe for him to leave.

“Don’t forget your exercises,” said the doctor, as he shook hands with both men.

“I promise,” said Heyes.

The doctor’s wife handed the men well-wrapped packages with food for their journey, which they took with sincere gratitude.

But the kind nurse was nowhere to be seen. Heyes couldn’t help but feel disappointed; her reading, in her soft voice, had been a real pleasure to him over the past weeks. Just as he and the Kid mounted their horses and prepared to ride away, she hurried out of the house.

“So sorry!” she said. “I nearly missed saying goodbye.”

She and Kid Curry simply nodded to each other, but she went to Heyes’ side. She reached up, and he down, and they clasped hands for just a moment.

“Thank you,” he said, and she smiled, which lit up her face.

And then the two outlaws rode away, headed back towards Devil’s Hole.

“She was a nice lady,” said Heyes, apropos of nothing.

“The nurse? She was. They were all nice folks,” the Kid responded. “The world is full of good people – they’re just not the ones we run across, with our line of work and all.”

“I wonder,” said Heyes, and they continued to ride.


End file.
